Everything you ever
by Sahneveilchen
Summary: Harry, Ron and Hermione are looking for the last Horcrux. They seek help from an old "friend". 7th book story with a slightly different storyline. Quirrell survived.
1. Chapter 1

Chapter One:

"Harry, wake up!" A female voice harhsly cut through the morning mist of Harry's sleepy mind. He opened his eyes in an instant, taking a moment to realize his heart was beating too fast and he was covered in cold sweat. Hermione sat beside him. "You dreamt about him again, right?" Harry nodded. Unlike most dreams you forget as soon as you wake up, the dreams about Voldemort always seemed to burn themselves into his brain like acid.

While Hermione was getting him some water, Harry tried to calm himself. He ran a hand through his sweat-dampened curls, making them stand up all spiky. He could still hear Voldemort's cold voice in his head, could still feel his presence. He shuddered. Voldemort had killed someone. Again. How many was that now? Hundreds? Thousands? How many had to give their lives in this pointless battle before he could put an end to it? In the end, they didn't even matter. None of their names would make it into the history books. They were just casualties. That thought made Harry sick. If they all died, who was left to mourn for them? He couldn't worry about everybody. There was not enough worry left in him. He felt like an old sponge, just all wrung out. He shook his head. He had to stay positive. If he didn't think they were going to win this, he had nothing to fight for. Harry stood up and went to Hermione and Ron for breakfast trying to shut up the nagging voice in his head that told him he didn't stand a chance.

"Breakfast" turned out to be old mushroom soup and some berries Hermione had found nearby. Harry ate without complaint, knowing Hermione had done her best. He didn't want to start a fight now. Even Ron didn't say anything, although he grimaced in disgust.

"I've been thinking..." Harry began, although he knew he didn't really have anything new to say, "about the Horcruxes." "You didn't think anything", Ron interrupted harshly, "We already know. We destroyed the locket, the cup, the diadem. Dumbledore destroyed the ring. You destroyed the diary. He can't have anything of Gryffindor's. It has to be something that means something to him, that he has a relation to, blah blah blah. And it's really hard to find something that means anything to him, because in case you haven't noticed, You-know-who is not exactly big on the whole human-emotions-thing", his voice rose, "He doesn't love. Nothing has ever been close to him! He doesn't care for anything or anyone! We're about as far in finding the last Horcrux as Neville is to be elected as Minister of Magic!"

Hermione's spoon hit the ground. "What did you just say?", she said slowly. Ron shrugged. "Face it, Hermione. All your tutoring couldn't save his arse in transfiguration and he still stutters in front of the class." "Not that", Hermione said impatiently. "About nobody being close to him." Ron just stared at her, not getting it. "Wait a second", Harry said. He looked at Hermione. "Of course. You're brilliant." She nodded. "We have to find Professor Quirrell."


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter Two:

Finding Quirrel turned out to be easier said than done. After Harry had defeated Voldemort in his first year at Hogwarts, he had practically vanished from the surface of the earth. Nobody had heard from him ever since, for all they knew, he was dead.

Research led them nowhere. Hermione snuck into a local library disguised as a muggle, she looked through every newspaper of the last seven years, but nothing. She read all of her books, she read about possession and mind-control, but none of the information seemed to relate to their cause or could give them any clue as to what had happened to Quirrell or where he was right now. One night, Hermione sat in front of the tent, her frowning face lit only by the glow of the nearly dead fire they kept for grilling mushrooms and to keep themselves warm at night, reading a passage of a wizard who had specialized in mind-control and his tries to possess a squirrell. Harry sat down beside her.

"How's it going?", he asked, trying to sound casual. Everything ticked Hermione off lately. "Well, Harry, how do you think it's going, huh?" Crap. "What do you want to hear right now? That our research leads nowhere? That Quirrell's probably dead or even if he is alive, he's hiding somewhere we'll never find him, because we don't have any freaking clue where to look? That even if we do find him- which borders on the impossible, because we probably don't have the teeniest-tiniest chance of doing so- he probably won't have the slightest idea what we could be searching for and all of this will have been for nothing, is that what you want to hear? Because if so, you're in luck." She threw the book on the ground and buried her face in her hands. "This is pointless."

Harry didn't know what to say. He just hoped she wouldn't start to cry.

Instead she looked up, her face hardened with the look of a warrior ready to fight. "You know what?", she said, "it doesn't matter. It was a stupid plan anyway. We'll just have to find the last Horcrux by ourselves."

Harry didn't dare to tell her he didn't think they stood a chance, now that their last hope was gone. He didn't even like to think this himself.

Even though Hermione had practically given up on the idea altogether, the thought of Ex-Professor Quirrell didn't leave Harry's mind. Hermione was right, he was the only person Voldemort had ever been close to- and maybe not only in the physical sense. What if there had been some kind of connection between them? What if Quirrell had been able to read his thoughts? They had shared one body, who knew if they had also shared one mind?

One week later something happened that made them all forget about Quirrell and the last Horcrux. They were listening to the radio, as a familiar voice said gravely: "Bad news, people. Justin Finch-Fletchley, seventh year at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry has been found dead this morning. It appears he has been killed by Death-Eaters."

Harry, Ron and Hermione looked at each other, shocked. "Justin..", Hermione mumbled. "He was half-blood", Ron said. Harry shook his head. "I don't believe this. Who does he think he is? Just killing people like that? With his stupid, fucking Death-Eaters just thinking he's better than everyone else?" He was panting now and Hermione and Ron were staring at him like he was crazy, Hermione almost laughing nervously. "Harry...", she began, but he interrupted her. "You know what, we've been taking his shit way too long! We're going to destroy him. What do you say?" They just kept staring at him. "Voldemort is going down."

"Harry, no!" Hermione and Ron yelled in unison, but it was too late. The words had already escaped his lips. They heard shooting around the tent and without looking they knew their spells had been taken down. "Hello Cuties", Fenrir Greyback said.


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter Three:

Everything seemed to be happening at once. Their tent broke down under the spells of the Snatchers that attacked Harry, Hermione and Ron. In the whole mess of coloured lightning and flying fabric, it was impossible to see exactly who was attacking who. Harry heard someone fall down beside him after he cast a stunning hex and he was fairly certain he had hit Ron. He had no time to check though, Hermione and himself still had to defend themselves. A scream sounded through the mixture of yells and curses and Hermione went down.

Harry more felt than saw the pain in her deafening yell. She was bleeding through various wounds, her face distorted with pain. Harry didn't know what to do. There was absolutely no way he could fight all the Snatchers by himself but if he let his guard down to save Hermione, they would kill him for sure. He didn't have a choice.

"Stupefy!", he yelled at the Snatcher near to him and quickly bent down to the bleeding Hermione. Blood was spurting out of her so fast Harry didn't know how there was any left inside her. She didn't scream anymore, instead her pale face was frozen in a look of pure terror.

"Vulnera Sanentur", he repeated the song-like incantation Snape had used on Draco in sixth year. He said it three times and although his hand was shaking, Hermione's wounds seemed to close slowly. "Expelliarmus!" Harry was hit in the back.

When Harry woke up, he found himself lying on a cold stone floor. He looked around himself. In the dim lights he could see Ron slowly waking from his petrification beside him.

He sat up and rubbed his head. "Damnit." Then he spotted Hermione, still unconscious and badly bruised. "Hermione." Harry winced at the pain in Ron's voice. He robbed over to her and bent over stroking her cheek softly. "What did they do?" Harry answered. "Snape." "He was there?", Ron asked without turning around. Harry shook his head, until his spell. You know the one I accidentally used on Malfoy last year."

Ron stood up. "She's... but she's... you know. She is goiing to be... okay, right?" Harry didn't dare looking him in the eye. "I closed her wounds, but she lost a lot of blood." He felt bad he didn't do more. He felt bad about not reacting faster, about wondering what to do when she had been already losing so much blood.

"That's not fair", Ron said in a broken voice. "They should have gotten me instead."

Harry shook his head. "Don't say that." Ron was almost tearing up. "She doesn't deserve this. She always looked out for us. She was always there. I don't know what to do without her." Harry didn't say anything. "It's not fair", Ron repeated. "One time she needs me and I can't help her. I know I'm not the leading man. I know I'm not the hero, but shouldn't I at least be able to do what she would have done for me?" He looked down on Hermione. "I'm sorry", he muttered.

There was a crooking noise. "Did you hear that?" Harry whispered. "Someone's coming." Ron looked up. The door opened and light shed into the small cold room they were lying in. Somebody entered and adressed them in a voice that Harry guessed was supposed to be intimidating, but came out a little shaky: "Stand up and follow me." It was Draco Malfoy.


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter Four:

Harry stood up and walked over to Malfoy. Ron just shot him a look of pure hatred and stayed at Hermione's side. "Why exactly should we do that, Malfoy?" Harry asked as calm as he could, carefully eyeing Draco's wand in the shivering hand that was still pointed at him.

"Be-cause I say so." Draco's voice broke. "Malfoy, if you think we're just gonna follow you quietly to our death-trap, you're even stupider than you look." Draco shot Harry an angry look. "Listen Potter", he hissed, "you're gonna follow me or else I'm gonna try a little spell on you that Professor Snape taught me." The tremble in his voice was gone. Harry didn't know if this was a good thing.

"Don't you think that spell is getting a little old, Malfoy?" Harry asked quietly, stepping aside so Draco could see Hermione lying on the ground. For a second there, he saw horror in Malfoy's eyes.

He raised his wand again. "I don't have a choice", he whispered. "It's either you or my family." "Stop talking shit, Malfoy!" Ron suddenly spoke up. "That's not the choice! It's your skin or the future of the entire wizarding world! Right now, Harry's the only one who can save us, but if you're just going to be a coward and hand him over to the Death-Eaters, this world is going down! It's never gonna change if you don't let him go! Your family will always be in danger as will everyone else, because once You-know-who is really in charge and there's nobody to stop him, this world is truly going to hell."

Draco looked as if he had a mental break-down. "I can't! I can't let you go, you have to get that!"

Harry stepped up to him. "Look, Draco, you gotta take us out of here. I promise we'll try to save your parents. We'll try to save everyone. But first you gotta help us." "Fine." Draco looked up. "Punch me." "What?" Draco rolled his eyes. "I can't just go with you like that. They'll kill my parents for sure!" "Oh, right." Harry punched Draco in the face. "Ouch!" Draco yelled. "Not so hard." Harry rolled his eyes. "Scream once more." "Help!" They yould hear the Death-Eaters run down the stairs to the cellar, but by the time they reached the door, their prisoners were gone.

"What happened? What is going on here?" Lucius Malfy pushed through the men. Yaxley turned around with a grim look on his face. "They took your son."


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter Five:

They found themselves in a forest. It was starting to get dark, but Harry could still make out the others. He also saw that Hermione wasn't bleeding anymore and she was conscious, but very pale. Ron was kneeling beside her, stroking her sweat-dampened hair. Draco was huddled together, muttering "Oh my god, oh my god, oh my god!" Harry sighed. With Hermione out, Ron busy caring about her and Draco's brain gone boiling, it was up to him to put up their tent and protection spells.

Ron and Harry carried Hermione into the tent, lay her down and put Dittany on her wounds. Although it was probably too late to actually heal the and stop the skin from scarring, Harry hoped it would do some good.

Harry left Ron with the slowly recovering Hermione and went outside the tent to have a quiet moment. That moment didn't last very long, however, since Draco decided to join him after a few minutes. "What are you doing out here?", he asked, sitting down beside Harry. "Baking a cake", Harry replied dryly.

For a while, neither of them said a thing. Then Draco let out a sigh. "I'm so screwed. I should never have listened to you. My parents are going to be tortured. I failed them." He buried his face in his hands. "You're an asshole." Harry rolled his eyes. "If I'd've known what kind of drama-queen you'd turn out to be, I wouldn't have brought you along."

Draco glared at him. "Hey, orphan boy, you might not believe it, but some of us actually have a family they can worry about." Harry dug his fingernails into his palms to stop himself from slapping Draco. "You know, you don't have to be such a jerk all the time I have people I care about. Ron's whole family is in constant jeopardy and Hermione had to erase her parents' memories to stop the Death-Eaters from coming after them. We all have to deal with this stuff. Stop pretending you're something special."

"Sorry", Draco mumbled quietly without looking at Harry. He stood up and went into the tent. Harry stayed until it got too cold.

He was unable to sleep that night. It wasn't because Ron was snoring so loud it could bring a forest down or that Hermione was wincing in pain in her sleep or that Draco rolled around the whole time. He was lying awake because he couldn't stop thinking about Ginny.

Where was she? Was she still in Hogwarts? What went on there? He sighed. It wasn't helping that Draco kept kicking him in the side in his sleep. Actually, Harry wasn't even sure he was asleep. Maybe he just liked kicking him.

Finally, he decided this just wasn't going to work, so he went out of the tent to look at the stars. He closed his eyes. It could have been so simple. Just a guy in love with a girl. Why couldn't the have a normal relationship and grow old and get married? Or not. They didn't have to grow old together. They didn't have to do anything right now. They could just be together.

Only they couldn't. Because nothing ever seemed to work out for him.

Harry slept under the stars that night.


End file.
